when love lasts | wroetoshaw

twenty five

our flat had been good to us. it was where we'd built our life together, juggling work, filming, and quiet evenings that usually ended with harry falling asleep on the sofa while i tried to turn off the tv without waking him. but with the baby on the way, we'd both reached the same conclusion: it was time to move.

four bedrooms—that was our dream. one for us, one for the baby, one for harry's office, and one for family or friends to stay in when they visited. we needed more space, plain and simple.

harry was surprisingly on board with the whole process. usually, getting him to focus on anything that didn't involve football or golf was a challenge, but when i showed him the listings for the houses we'd be viewing today, he'd actually sat down and listened. that alone felt like progress.

"alright," harry said, pulling on his jacket as i grabbed the car keys. "let's find our forever home."

i raised an eyebrow. "forever home? you've been watching too much daytime tv."

"it's a thing people say," he replied, grinning.

"okay," i laughed, rolling my eyes.

~

the first house wasn't far—about twenty minutes from the flat. it was in a quiet neighbourhood with tree-lined streets, and as we pulled up outside, i could see why it had caught my eye online. it had a classic red-brick exterior with a bay window and a little front garden.

"it's cute," i said, turning off the engine.

"it's small," harry replied, squinting at the house.

"it's not small," i argued. "it's compact."

he laughed, climbing out of the car. "alright, let's see what 'compact' looks like on the inside."

the estate agent greeted us with a clipboard and an enthusiastic smile, ushering us inside. the hallway was narrow, with scuffed wooden floors and wallpaper that had definitely seen better days.

"it's got potential," the agent said, leading us into the living room.

the living room was small but cozy, with a fireplace and a bay window that let in a decent amount of light. i could imagine us sitting here on a rainy day, but harry didn't look convinced.

"it's fine," he said, his tone noncommittal.

"let's see the kitchen," i said, steering him toward the next room.

the kitchen was, to put it kindly, outdated. the cabinets were dark wood, the countertops were an odd shade of orange, and the appliances looked like they belonged in a museum.

"it's got character," i said, trying to stay positive.

"so does a haunted house," harry muttered.

upstairs, the master bedroom was decent, but the second and third bedrooms were tiny. the fourth bedroom was barely big enough for a desk, let alone a guest bed.

"imagine trying to fit an office in here," harry said, standing in the smallest room.

"or a cot," i added, shaking my head.

the garden was overgrown, with a rusted swing set and a shed that looked like it might collapse if you touched it.

"it's got a lot of charm," the agent said.

"and a lot of work," harry whispered as we walked back to the car.

as we drove away, we both agreed it wasn't the right fit.

~

the second house was part of a new-build estate, and as we approached, i could see harry's eyes light up.